


Hobby

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-22
Updated: 2006-02-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8075305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Malcolm may not admit to his hobbies, but he does have them. (10/23/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

_Back straight, eyes up and scanning unobtrusively. Nod a greeting to Crewman Nemeth but don't slow down. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a man heading to his quarters at shift's end. Furtive behavior will only serve to foster suspicion where there needn't be any._

Malcolm Reed strode down the corridors of Enterprise with his usual quiet competancy. His movements were smooth and efficient, unhurried. He was the very picture of a man who knew his niche in the world, filled it well, and didn't feel the need to prove his worth to anyone. Malcolm never needed to swagger or brag, a small, satisfied smile at a victory was all he ever broadcast of success. He carried himself like a man with nothing to hide. 

"Hey, Malcolm," called the cheerful voice of Travis Mayweather from a few paces behind. Malcolm had hoped to avoid distractions but slowed his pace to let his friend catch up. Not that the long-legged ensign had any trouble closing the distance but it wouldn't do to appear at all preoccupied. "Nice shooting out there today." 

Malcolm allowed himself a wry smile. "Thank you, Travis, but you have to admit that that asteroid didn't put up much of a fight." 

Travis shook his head and smiled. "Are you always so modest? I know much work went into getting the phase cannons re-aligned." One of the engine power relays had blown in a big way a few days ago, playing havoc with some of the weapons systems as an added attraction. Malcolm and his crew, alongside of Trip and his, had put in some serious overtime to get everything up and running normally again. Today, they had finally gotten Enterprise back up to par. She was even functioning slightly above par since the problem had provided the chance to make a few minor improvements as the repairs progressed. 

"It was a team effort. If acknowledging that makes me modest, then I suppose I am." Malcolm had served under a CO on his last assignment who was only too happy to take credit for anything and everything positive accomplished by his staff. While Malcolm supposed the man had a right to be proud, he himself hadn't cared for the work atmosphere that attitude created, nor was he particularly comfortable being praised for merely doing his duty. Travis gave him a mildly dubious look, but was willing to let it drop. "If you say so." 

It was common knowledge that Trip got no significant sleep whenever the heart of Enterprise wasn't pumping properly. Malcolm was no different when her teeth weren't sharp. Everyone worked hard but those two went the extra mile, not that either would ever admit it. Travis decided a change of subject was in order. 

"Are you going to the movie tonight?" 

"I do hope you're kidding." 

"Not at all. There's bound to be lots of explosions." 

For a moment, Malcolm was tempted. He, too, was sure there was bound to be pyrotechnics in spades and he had to admit that there was a certain perverse appeal to bad, outdated, low budget, science fiction films. It was rather like watching a parody, or maybe a wicked shuttle wreck. But no, he already had plans for the evening as well as a good excuse to stay in undisturbed. "Well, as purely thrilling as Attack of the Slug People sounds," he began wryly. "I'm afraid I'm going to give it a miss. I have a previous engagment with my bunk. After standing the poor thing up last night, it would be entirely too rude not to show up tonight." 

That prompted the expected chuckle. "Alright. I'd hate to keep you from a hot date. Have fun and don't forget to play it safe. Use a mattress cover." Travis couldn't quite keep his face straight but he managed to surprise a laugh out of Malcolm regardless. 

"Now I know you've spent too much time with Dralaxian women if you think you need to hand out advice. I'm glad to hear you think about taking precautions. I'd hate to think of a crowd of brown-eyed sons and daughters equipped with slightly less than Dralaxian but slightly more than human, womanly attributes, all calling you daddy." 

The helmsman laughed so hard, his pace slowed to a crawl and by the time he calmed down, he was wiping tears from his eyes. Malcolm just smiled one of his half-smiles at the hysterics, pleased that he was able to repay a favor to his friend. Travis could often make him laugh when few others could. 

"Did anyone ever tell you you're a strange man, Malcolm?" Travis asked through the last of his snickers. 

"Not today, no." 

"Well, you are but it's part of your charm." They reached the point where their paths diverged and stopped. 

"Enjoy the movie. I hope it won't be as awful as it sounds." 

"I'll let you know. You and your bunk have fun." Travis punctuated his statement with a sly wink. 

"Don't worry, Travis, we will," Malcolm tossed confidently over his shoulder as continued down the corridor. He thought he heard Travis chuckle from around the corner but couldn't be sure. 

Malcolm didn't run into anyone and was soon at his own door. He entered his code carefully and stepped inside. Pausing just inside the door a moment, he reveled in how good it felt to be home. His uniform was then carefully, fondly, removed, the pockets methodically emptied and placed in the hamper. A hot shower was next on the agenda. Malcolm vigorously removed the dirt and dust of a long day's work. He even lingered in the warm spray, letting it sooth lingering tension from his back and shoulders. 

The man who emerged from the bathroom slightly damp but wearing a contented smile, felt much more human than the man who went in. He donned a pair of shorts and then checked to be sure that his door was locked. Just to be positive that he was truly done for the day, Malcolm pressed a button on his personal terminal and gave a relieved sigh when it told him there were no messages. It was time. 

Malcolm opened his closet and reached to the back, pulling out a charcoal gray T-shirt, well worn and baby's bum soft. He smiled as he put it on, remembering, as he always did, the day he'd left for Starfleet. The T had been a gift from his Aunt Sherry, who hadn't given a rat's arse that her favorite nephew was leaving a family tradition unfulfilled. She'd just been happy that Malcolm had found his path in life. the phrase, "It's not the size of your pistol, but how many shots you can squeeze off" were emblazoned in lurid red across the front of the garment. Aunt Sherry was the other black sheep in the Reed herd. 

Still smiling, Malcolm stood on his toes and just managed to snag a box on the top shelf of his closet. He brought it down and eagerly pulled the top off. Carefully, almost reverently, he brushed aside a rubber snake, a picture Maddy had drawn for him when they were little and a stuffed moose to reveal a data disk. Malcolm removed the disk and then replaced the cover on the dull brown, non-descript box. He set the container down on his desk where he'd be sure to remember to put it back up on the closet when he was done. 

Malcolm selected a PADD from the bottom of the stack, one that he didn't have any work stored on, and slipped the disk into it. Feeling a bit silly yet unable to stop himself, he double checked the lock on his door and even glanced out the window at the passing stars. He nodded, satisfied that there would be no witnesses. 

Two pillows from one of compartments beneath his bunk joined the one sitting atop it. Pillows, covers and armory officer were all arranged for maximum comfort. Finally, the PADD was activated and Malcolm quietly, happily read aloud to himself. "One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish..."


End file.
